


A Darkstache thing I don't know what to name

by 1AbbyNewth5



Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Autistic Wilford Warfstache headcanon, Carnival, Dark loves Wilford, Inner Dialogue, Other, Shh, Tour Bus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 20:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18977590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1AbbyNewth5/pseuds/1AbbyNewth5





	A Darkstache thing I don't know what to name

Well… this is new. Whenever I’m thinking, it can be written down on my laptop on its own without me touching the keys. That’s pretty useful. I wonder if it can happen with images?

…

No? Huh. I’m not much of a visual person anyway, so that is pretty convenient. I can finally have my thoughts put into words without typing them down to make anything I think sound ridiculous.

We’re on a bus right now. We’re all taking a vacation out of our cramped apartment neighborhood so we can have some time away from our work. Wilford thought it was a good idea to make sure nobody was getting stressed, so he stole the bus from one of those tour bus garages. A bit stupid, but it’s Wilford. What are you gonna do? He’s gotten away from trouble on multiple occasions. I should know.

Everybody but Derek Derekson went on the bus. He has some kind of phobia of buses and driving overall, over how most of his sons were killed in an accident a few years ago. Understandable, but that doesn’t give anybody an excuse to like him because of how much of an awful father he is towards Eric. Eric has multiple seat belts on just in case something happens. He’s a very smart kid. Very stuttery and anxious, but very smart. Everybody - sans Derek - here likes him a lot. He’s probably the most sane person we have here, which is a relief, because Wilford attracts crazy people like the plague.

I’m not entirely sure as to where Wilford wants us all to go. He probably really just wanted everybody to check out the bus he stole. I will say though, the seats are very comfy. Almost feels like my bed at home, only not as worn out. Maybe it’s made out of the same material? I don’t know, and I honestly don’t really care. My only expectation throughout this whole vacation is that Wilford doesn’t get himself arrested again. I’ll have to bust in and get him out by saying I’m his lawyer, or his district attorney, saying that he’s innocent. I’ve counted all the times I had to do the same thing, and it is more than 30.

You know, on the subject of Wilford, he’s sitting next to me right now. He’s saying something about how he’d want to duplicate himself so he could drive AND sit next to me at the same time. He wants to look at me while talking, but he has to look at the road as well if he was in the driver’s seat. He says he’s the only one who knows where he wants us to go, - it’s apparently a surprise - and Dr. Iplier might be going the wrong way. There is such a thing called a GPS, but that would mean Wilford could be spoiling the surprise if he gave it to him. Makes sense.

I know it’s a bit too early (or too late?) to mention Christmas, but last year, I gave Wilford at least two presents; A notebook and a ukulele. He carries those things wherever he goes, and doesn’t think twice about it. He doesn’t have an actual reason as to why he carries them around, he just likes having them in his hands. Especially his ukulele. It gives him something to do whenever he’s alone. He’s been teaching himself a lot of songs to play on it, and he jots a bunch of songs down in his notebook, but he never shows off for us. It’s odd, because he’s usually a showoff for everything he does. I’ve heard him play and sing a little bit whenever he’d be on his own, but if he spots me, he would stop. It’s very strange, and a bit out of character for him, but I don’t press any of his buttons about it. It’s probably none of my business anyway.

Wilford writes to himself a lot. Besides putting down songs to play on his ukulele, he writes a lot of thoughts in his notebook almost every single day. He has little scribbles and five-year-old-styled drawings inside, and honestly… it’s cute. I hate the word ‘cute’, but it’s the only thing I have on my mind to describe it. Besides playing his ukulele, it gives Wilford something to do when he’s bored. That basically was my intent in giving him those things for Christmas, because he can get bored VERY easily. He complains and whines a lot when he’s not having any fun.

Wilford also has some kind of thing for… toilet paper, where he just wraps some of it around his arm (or mine), rips it off, crumbles it all into one big ball, and tosses it into the trash can… He says it’s his way of fidgeting with something that can never break. I was debating whether or not I should have gotten him at least ten rolls of toilet paper for Christmas, but then Wilford would TP the entire building, and 100% would NOT be ashamed of it. If Wilford was my child, I would ground him for a whole three months. But in reality, I am his ‘datemate’, and the least I can do is to observe Wilford almost every day, make sure he doesn’t get himself hurt, and just to keep him in check as he does a bunch of random crazy shit. And honestly, I’m okay with that.

Huh, that was quick. We already made it to Wilford’s surprise location. We made it to a carnival.

… I’m going to win every single stuffed animal for him as we’re here, and Wilford is going to like it no matter what.


End file.
